


Rules for the Care and Training of Your Shadow

by Always1



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: A touch of Dante, Alastor has many deals, Contracts, Exasperated Alastor, Gen, Humor, Lucifer has fun, Raising your future minion, Rules, Somebody save Bill, Unfortunate Shopkeeper
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:28:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23100997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Always1/pseuds/Always1
Summary: As an established Overlord, Alastor has plenty of advice to give to young hopefuls in the field.Today’s lesson: Raising your newly animated shadow minion into a functional second in command.Rule one: Survive.
Comments: 73
Kudos: 106





	1. So You Want a Shadow with Issues

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This fic is inspired by (but not really connected to) another story of mine, the latest section of which features Alastor’s Shadow and its role in the Hazbin Hotel. Since I’ve already done a 5+1, I thought I’d try my hand at another fanfiction classic: the “rules for/how to” story. Hope you enjoy!

**It is a truth universally acknowledged that an up-and-coming Overlord, being in possession of great power and questionable morals, must be in want of a reliable right hand. It is a truth no less universal that, with this being Hell, reliable (or even competent) minions are often more trouble than they’re worth to acquire.**

**Some will attempt to usurp your power, some will develop....desires you may not wish to reciprocate, and others...**

**_Well._ **

**We’ve all seen the Egg Bois.**

**But not to fear, dear Readers! There _is_ another way.**

**As an Overlord _or_ a territory-holder with a realistic chance of becoming an Overlord in the future, you naturally possess a great deal of strength unique to your person. These abilities may range from mental, to elemental to something a bit more...eclectic, but the fact that you have any kind of strong demonic magic means that you have certain privileges lesser Sinners lack. In this case, the skill we will be discussing is one of the oldest of the dark arts, a subject shrouded in mystery and feared by many.**

**What is this skill, Readers? In the plainest English, I’m talking about Shadow Birthing, the practice of giving a shadow (your shadow, more often than not) full sentience and demonic power of its own.**

**While dangerous and highly illegal, correct application of this ability will give you the helper you desire, an intelligent construct created from the most vicious part of your being, and one with every incentive to ensure your safety and assist in your dark doings.**

**I myself possess many magic-born minions, but none more famous than my first, a malevolent creature known in the Pentagram only as _the Shadow_. Throughout the decades, my Shadow and I have had our ups and downs, but time and patience have left me with the knowledge that my territory will be well guarded in my absence.**

**I’m sure I don’t _need_ to remind you of the fall of Overlord M’Keztraliak; such a pity she thought my visiting a friend outside the city meant that my radio tower was free real estate.**

**How fortunate that her skull was proportional to her inflated ego. For more information, please see “How to Summon Eldritch Horrors: Offerings Recommended and Demanded.”**

**But enough of that for now; we have work to do!**

**The process for animating shadows begins on page 32, but, before that, I would like to list a few general rules and helpful tips for what to expect in the first year. I would HIGHLY recommend you don’t skip ahead, but, really, who am _I_ to tell you what to do?  
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Congratulations on your choice to keep to the path, dear Reader! You will be one of the lucky few to survive the first month with your newly enhanced shadow. I make no such promises for the rest of the year.**

**Now, the first thing you need to know...**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to TwinklingMayViolets for giving me the kick I needed to write more about Alastor.


	2. How we did it before The Amazon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Now, the first thing you need to know...”
> 
> Alastor goes shopping for supplies

**...is that Shadow Birthing is a labor-intensive project, one that you should wait to pursue until you have established a certain level of safety in your chosen territory. It’s hard to create life with half of Hell out for your head, after all. In my own case, it was roughly twelve years after manifesting that I finally had the time and a good enough reason to learn more about the process.**

Blood splattered across the walls as the remaining half of a green skinned demoness slumped to the ground.

Alastor glared down as his former assistant, one hand frantically rubbing traces of bright pink lipstick from his cheek.

“Three times in two months - this is getting ridiculous!”

**After committing myself to creating a minion whose goals aligned more with my own, I spent the next several months studying ancient tomes seized from former rivals. Some writers were less credible than others.**

“They want me to do WHAT to a chicken!?”

**Luckily for you, the _actual_ steps included later on take up less than a single page, with space to spare, and no poultry or other livestock need be involved. In fact, what ingredients you will require are actually very pleasant, and easy enough to obtain.**

“ _GREETINGS, MY GOOD FELLOW! MIGHT I TROUBLE YOU FOR DIRECTIONS TO YOUR SPICE SECTION?_ ”

The shopkeep woke with a start, scrambling back as he came face to face with the Radio Demon’s toothy smile.

“U-uh, wh-wh-wha?”

“ _SPICES, MY FRIEND, AND LOTS OF THEM! I’VE BEEN ASKING AROUND, AND PEOPLE SAY YOURS ARE THE FINEST FOR MILES!_ ”

Silently vowing to track those people down and _strangle_ them for throwing him under the bus, the shorter demon straightened up, putting on his most professional smile.

If the result was a bit twitchy and sweat-soaked, the Overlord gave no sign of noticing.

“Yes, spices! We...have those, over that way.” _Walk away, walk away. Dear Valefar, just grab what you need and go._

Looking towards the sprawling aisles of magical and mundane ingredients, the deer demon glanced back, one eyebrow raised.

“ _THAT’S QUITE THE COLLECTION YOU HAVE, SIDNEY! SOME HELP WOULD BE APPRECIATED._ ”

_Who told you my NAME?!_

Too stunned to protest, Sidney the shopkeep allowed himself to be dragged out from behind the counter and deeper into the store.

**I won’t bore you with the details, but I did manage to get most of what physical items I needed in a single day.**

“So, um, is that everything, Mister Alastor?” Sidney felt the pressure in his chest ease as the Radio Demon hefted a large paper bag into the crook of his left arm. 

He’d done it, he’d survived an hour of the insane radio host’s attention. He wasn’t even going to ask about the money.

“ _JUST ABOUT EVERYTHING, I THINK._ ” Alastor looked down into the bag before consulting a piece of paper he’d carried with him during the shopping trip. “ _EVERYTHING I CAN GET IN THE CITY, THAT IS. UNLESS...HMM._ ”

_The sooner he gets what he needs, the sooner he leaves._

“A-anything I can get for you, Sir? On the house, I mean, for a first-time customer!”

The taller demon’s grin stretched wider, yellow teeth shining in the light.

“ _AH, YOU’RE A CREDIT TO YOUR PROFESSION, SIDNEY MY PAL! YOU JUST MIGHT BE ABLE TO HELP ME AFTER ALL. TELL ME, WHAT SORT OF DEMON ARE YOU? SALAMANDER?_ ”

“I’m a newt!” Sidney _hated_ when people got that wrong. Yes, newts were a type of salamander, but there were differences, damn it!

“ _OH, THAT’S EVEN BETTER!_ ”

Sidney gulped as the red haired demon towered over him, clawed hands latching onto his shoulders with bruising force.

“ _EYE OF NEWT WAS NEXT ON MY LIST!_ ”

**In retrospect, perhaps I should have waited to acquire one or two ingredients...much better fresh, although pickling was easy enough. It was a shame that the store ended up going out of business - good customer service is so rare these days.**

Alastor hummed as he left the store, a paper bag in one arm and a small jar in another. What a gem, that Sidney! He’d have to go back one day and tell the little goofball how things had gone.

...maybe in a month or two. The poor dear might not be back on his feet until then. Such a shame he tried to run.

**For what few items remained after my initial trip, it _did_ take a little more work, so I decided to bring in an old friend to help with the heavy lifting.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Valefar is a demon from the Ars Goetia...like Stolas. Apparently he’s associated with thievery.
> 
> In case anyone’s wondering, I have Alastor speak normally when alone, with the radio voice as his way of freaking people out.


	3. With Friends Like These

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alastor had friends before Husk and Niffty. 
> 
> ...
> 
> Well, he had Bill.

**Some of you might remember Bill from my earliest broadcasts. Not the strongest dragon demon despite his imposing size, and certainly not the sharpest nail in the coffin, but a very agreeable man nonetheless; always happy to help.**

“ _BILL, NICE TO SEE YOU AGAIN!_ ”

“Whatever it is, I’m NOT doing it!”

“ _HAHAHAHA! SUCH A KIDDER!_ ” Alastor caught the taller demon by the tail as he raced for the door, spinning them both onto a nearby couch. “ _I KNOW I HAVEN’T BEEN AROUND MUCH SINCE BECOMING AN OFFICIAL OVERLORD, BUT THERE’S NO REASON FOR THE COLD SHOULDER, DEAR. WHY, I CAME ALL THIS WAY JUST TO GIVE US A CHANCE TO CATCH UP AND SPEND SOME QUALITY TIME TOGETHER! WON’T THAT BE FUN?_ ”

“ _Fun?!_ ” Bill bristled, wings flaring out as a thin trail of smoke began to pour from his left nostril. “The last time you wanted ‘quality time’ I was nearly skewered by the goddamn BLACK KNIGHT, and that was AFTER having to dodge about a hundred flaming arrows while you _TELEPORTED IN_! Does that sound like FUN to you?!”

“ _OH, IT WAS GREAT FUN! YOU WERE AN EXCELLENT DISTRACTION, MY FRIEND, AND WHEN YOU OFFERED TO MAKE A DEAL-_ ”

“Because my wing was damaged! Because of the dungeon troll YOU let out!”

“ _I MADE IT NICE AND FAIR, REALLY THE MOST SELFLESS BARGAIN I EVER ENTERED INTO!_ ” Jerking forward, the deer demon caught Bill’s scaly paws between his hands. Orange eyes widened in horror as he felt the space where their skin touched begin to burn. 

“ _I HELPED YOU OUT OF THAT LITTLE TIFF AND GAVE THOSE KNIGHTS WHAT FOR, AND IN EXCHANGE..._ ” Pulses of green energy wound between their joined arms as the bond reactivated. 

“ _YOU DO A COUPLE LITTLE FAVORS FOR ME, AND I THINK WE CAN GET THAT WRAPPED UP NOW IF YOU HAVE THE TIME! WE CAN END OUR AGREEMENT WITH A BANG AND YOU CAN GET BACK TO BUSINESS WHILE I FINISH UP SOME WORK OF A PERSONAL NATURE THAT SHOULD KEEP ME OCCUPIED AND ENTERTAINED FOR YEARS TO COME._ ”

“...End things? You mean no more deals?” It had to be a trap. He’d known Alastor for years now, and one of the ONLY things he could say for sure about the Overlord was that he loved manipulation more than Lucifer loved apples.

Well, _almost_ as much as Lucifer loved apples.

Hell, him invading that castle had been his way out of their last deal - one he’d only been in for trying to survive the deal before that!

“ _NO MORE DEALS. YOU HAVE MY WORD._ ” 

This was definitely a trap.

But...no more deals. 

No being woken up at two in the morning to investigate a rogue banshee sighting. No spending three days using his dragon-fire to help boil whatever weird magic slop Alastor had cooking, and then waking up a month later to a lecture about not breathing in the fumes from weird magical slop. No having to fly Alastor to a meeting at the Palace because he wanted to make a fucking _entrance_.

No dungeon trolls or flaming arrows.

“Fine, but no more castles either!”

“ _THAT’S THE SPIRIT!_ ”

**There were a total of three things left on my list, so we got started right away. The first was the feather of a siren, which took us deep into the mountains surrounding the Second Circle of Hell. Filthy creatures, sirens. Their singing only works on human ears, so the ones stationed in Hell have slid a bit farther down the evolutionary ladder over the last few thousand years.**

“So they aren’t going to make me crash myself into a cliff or something?”

“ _HEAVENS NO! THESE ONES DON’T EVEN TRY TO SING ANYMORE. YOU’RE QUITE SAFE FROM THAT!_

**Although anyone with lesser strength than an Overlord or with less natural protection than a dragon’s scales might want to think twice before invading a siren’s nest. Their talons are twice as sharp as those of their sisters in the Mediterranean, and they are _starved_ for company.**

Alastor knelt among the twisted branches, carefully avoiding anything that looked wet. There were plenty of feathers to choose from, but they were all so dull, so dirty! No, he had to look for something a bit better for his creation.

“Screeee! Screeee!”

“SHIT! OW! GET OFF! GET THEM OFF ME!”

Perhaps the next nest would be more promising.

“AL, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!”

**Bill did an excellent job keeping the sirens back while I found a feather that was right for the ritual, just as I knew he would.**

The sirens screamed in anger as they were blasted off their prey, sending venomous looks in the red-haired demon’s direction before retreating to a safer distance.

“ _WELL, FINDING THE RIGHT ONE WAS A CHORE, BUT I THINK I’VE DONE IT!_ ” The dragon blinked one eye open as a smooth bronze feather was shoved in front of his snout. “ _LOVELY SHINE TO THIS LITTLE BEAUTY. I THINK IT WAS FROM THE ONE THAT WAS CHEWING ON YOUR NECK EARLIER. SHE WAS THE MOST WELL GROOMED OF THE FLOCK FROM WHAT I COULD SEE._ ”

“I....you...” Did that jackass really leave him to be a siren chew toy because he wanted to wait for a shinier feather?!

“ _DUST YOURSELF OFF, MY SCALY SIDEKICK! WE HAVE WORK TO DO! I HOPE YOU STILL LIKE SWIMMING!_ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. It took me forever to decide how I’d write Bill. I think he was a bit like Husk, but younger and more easily cowed by Alastor’s strong (evil) personality.


	4. Creepers From the Black Lagoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill goes for a swim. Alastor continues to be a terrible friend/boss.

**After acquiring the _perfect_ feather with relative ease, I felt good about our chances of wrapping things up by the end of the day. Bill had a few minor concerns,**

“I’m not gonna DROWN because you want _real_ pirate gold, you selfish motherfu-“

**but a gentle reminder about the terms and conditions of our latest deal helped him see sense. After all, you can’t expect to buy authentic sunken treasure in the Pentagram, and any you could find in the more high-end stores and auction houses will have lost its magical potency within days of being lifted from the briny deep. Never skimp on the quality of your ingredients, dear Readers, or your ritual will go to Hell faster than _you_ did, and I doubt there will be enough of your body left over to make that mistake again.**

**As for where we would go to find treasure, there were a few options. My first instinct was the first ring of the Seventh Circle, but it seemed a bit unfair to subject my favorite helper to a flaming river of boiling blood when I know how keen his sense of smell can be, so I made due with my second choice: the Fifth Circle, home of the (in)famous River Styx, and the final resting place of quite a few old friends of mine from my time on earth.**

“Al...the river...” Orange eyes stared doubtfully into the swirling waters as the dragon stood on the bank, wings spread.

“ _YES?_ ”

“It’s a goddamn swamp fight club out there.”

“ _BEAUTIFUL, IS IT NOT? AH, HOW IT BRINGS ME BACK. IT COULD ALMOST PASS FOR THE BAYOU IF NOT FOR THE DIFFERENT FAUNA. _”__

_Fauna, he says._ Bill twitched as the Radio Demon began waxing poetic about his native Louisiana. He’d heard it all already. On several occasions. 

____Huffing out a smoky sigh, the taller demon looked back at the _river_ and all the _different fauna_ sloshing around on the surface. Only someone as crazy as Alastor could act like hundreds of lesser demons wrestling on top of the water was no weirder than a couple ducks fighting over a bread roll. Sure, lesser demons like that were so close to actual humans that he could swat them away with ease, but that didn’t make it any less freaky to go for a swim in the legendary cesspool._ _ _ _

____A dark shadow drifted under the water, before vanishing under a brawling trio._ _ _ _

____Fuck, he hoped it was just dead bodies under that mess. And fuck Al for making THAT his standard for a good day!_ _ _ _

____Ugh. He did not want to do this._ _ _ _

“- _FEEL THE WAY THE AIR WRAPS ITSELF-_ ” 

____SPLASH!_ _ _ _

“ _...RUDE._ ” 

____**After taking a quick look around, Bill was shockingly eager to get to work. I can only assume that my stories about a childhood spent exploring the swampland awakened his sense of adventure. While I appreciated his moxie, he really should have waited for me to tell him more about what he’d be working with underneath the uppermost layer of what I like to call the Sinner Stew.** _ _ _ _

____Face down and wings out, Bill glided over the water like a particularly shiny alligator, his significantly greater strength and considerable bulk pushing through the fighters with ease as he drifted into deeper waters._ _ _ _

____The water beneath the surface was dark, filthy and clouded with eons of human blood, sweat, tears, and...stuff he didn’t really want to think about too much._ _ _ _

____Nearing the middle of the river, Bill paused, raising his head just long enough to take a large breath, before diving into the endless muck of Hell’s wrathful._ _ _ _

____**You see, the Sinners relegated to the Fifth Circle are divided into two main groups: active and passive. The actively wrathful fight on the surface of the Styx, while the passive float below. The passive live farther down, too consumed by their anger and resentments to join the fight above, but no less hateful for their distraction. Being the weakest beings in Hell, these pathetic things are less of a threat than the average imp (and considerably less intelligent than those thieving little delinquents), and no trouble at all to a Sinner powerful enough to be living in an established city like Bill was or you should be. No, one of those brutes would be no trouble at all...the real issue is when you do something to attract the whole lot of them.** _ _ _ _

____Pushing himself deeper into the cold, slimy liquid (Bill now knew better than to compare it to fresh, clean water), the dragon smiled when he spotted a flash of metal ahead. Gold, and a lot of it. The hateful sure did well for themselves, didn’t they?_ _ _ _

____Finally reaching the bottom, he began gathering the treasure into his arms. A few coins here, a goblet there, enough jewels to keep even a priss like that new Overlord, Tino or something, blinged out for decades to come._ _ _ _

____Busy collecting the gold, Bill didn’t spare a thought for the way the gemstones flashed. Yeah, it shouldn’t have been possible in the sludgy blackness, but Hell was odd like that. No big deal, and the lights were kind of pretty._ _ _ _

____Plopping the last necklace atop his pile of pilfered goods, the demon took a second to appreciate how much easier it was getting Al’s gold than fighting off the sirens. Maybe the worst was behind him now, and all that was left-_ _ _ _

“ _....ine. Miiiiiine._ ” 

“ _Steeeeealiiing frooom the Duuuuke!_ ” 

“ _Aaavaaast, yeee wiiickeed fieeeend!_ “ 

**Really, I never said anything about taking gemstones, and I certainly wouldn’t recommend it. Undead swamp corpses are a lot like fish; they aren’t very bright, but even _they_ will take notice if you start shining a light in their eyes. That’s just common sense.**

____SPLASH! GLUG GLUG “AL, HELP!” SPLASH GLUG!_ _ _ _

“ _AND RUIN MY NEW SHOES? I DON’T THINK SO! I’LL GET US SOME LUNCH WHILE YOU FINISH UP HERE. ARE SANDWICHES FINE?_ ” 

____SPLASH GLUG....splish gurgle._ _ _ _

“ _SANDWICHES IT IS!_ ” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m baaaack!


	5. Apple of His Eye (1/2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill finally takes a stand against Alastor.

**Despite Bill’s initial blunder, he did manage to bring up a handful of doubloons and a rather nice locket by the time I returned with our lunch. Unfortunately, I’d only brought enough for two, so I had to put my foot down when his new friends attempted to join us.**

With a splash, the last of the lesser demons fell back into the muck, dark, fishy eyes glaring balefully at the Sinners on the bank of the river.

“ _DISGUSTING CREATURES, AREN’T THEY? NOT EVEN WORTH EATING IF THAT SMELL IS ANYTHING TO GO BY. BUT ENOUGH OF THAT, TIME TO DIG IN!_ ”

“Hate.....you...so much.”

Alastor looked up from his sandwich, smiling innocently over at the dragon panting into the sand. Really, his friend was so dramatic, always complaining about one thing or another. If it was anyone else, they’d be bleeding between his teeth by now, but it was _Bill_ , so he was willing to be the bigger person just this once.

“ _I’M SORRY, DID YOU WANT THE ROAST BEEF? NOT A PROBLEM, WE CAN DO HALFSIES!_ ”

**After taking an hour to recharge, there was just one last item on our list:**

“You’re kidding. Al, tell me you’re kidding!”

**fruit from the Garden of Eden. Now, I understand that this might be a shock to you, dear Reader, but no need to worry; you will NOT need to leave Hell for this. Actually, you barely need to leave the Pentagram. Let me explain. You most likely know the story of Adam and Eve, and how one particularly clever little serpent convinced them to give rebellion a try, but what you might not know is that Eve was actually spouse number two. Who was Adam’s first wife? Her name was Lilith. Yes, _that_ Lilith, now Queen of Hell and the beloved wife of Lucifer himself.**

**Do yourself a favor and never mention our Queen’s ex in front of her. Even _I_ don’t enjoy seeing the results, which should tell you all you need to know about how that relationship ended.**

**In spite of (or, perhaps, because of) the whole Adam/Eve debacle, Lilith has a great fondness for one particular tree in Eden, and Lucifer was more than happy to liberate some of its fruit to honor his and her thousandth anniversary. That the tree in question bore a rather infamous fruit was totally irrelevant to the gesture, I’m sure, and not a way for Lucifer to gift himself an orchard of the best tasting apples in the known Universe _at all_.**

Bill stared, mouth dropping open at the explanation.

“You want to steal an apple from a Tree of Knowledge...literal _Forbidden Fruit_ , from Lucifer’s wife? By breaking into the Palace?”

“ _OH, ANYTHING SOUNDS BAD WHEN YOU SAY IT LIKE THAT! THINK OF IT LIKE AN ADVENTURE! A QUEST, JUST LIKE THE GOOD OLD DAYS!_ ”

“Just like...aha!” Jumping to his feet, Bill pointed a claw at Alastor. He was grinning wide enough to match the demon in front of him, because he was about to do the impossible.

Beat the Radio Demon at his own game.

_Saved by a deal. Shit, this is amazing. Kinda wishing we weren’t alone right now._

“I can’t do it, and _you_ can’t make me!”

Alastor blinked at the declaration, smile slipping just a bit as the dragon stared him down.

“ _CAN’T DO IT?_ ” For once, he sounded genuinely confused. “ _SURE YOU CAN, MY DOUBTFUL DRAGON! I HAVE EVERY FAITH IN YOUR ABILITIES AND, FAILING THOSE, IN MY ABILITY TO BRING YOU BACK IF THE WYVERNS GET YOU!_

_Can he seriously not hear how he sounds when he says shit like that? Like, am I supposed to be grateful that he wants to bring me back as a weird voodoo zombie slave if I get eaten by wyverns?! Fuck you, Al!_

“That’s nice and all, you selfish fuck, but I didn’t mean that I don’t want to break into their place to grab that stupid apple. I literally _can’t_ do it, and do you wanna know why?”

Oh, he was going to enjoy this!

“ _I DO, AS A MATTER OF FACT._ Bill squared his shoulders as the hum of static filled the air, scraping against his scales like sandpaper as the Overlord began to lose his patience. “ _WHY, AFTER ALL WE’VE BEEN THROUGH TODAY - NO, ALL WE’VE BEEN THROUGH IN GENERAL, ARE YOU TRYING TO **gO BACk ON OuR dEAl?**_ ”

“I can’t do it _because_ of our deal, Al. Because you agreed. No. More. Goddamn. CASTLES!”

The static stopped immediately as the Radio Demon froze.

Bill waited. He was loving finally having one over on his Boss from Hell, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a little nervous. People didn’t say no to Alastor.

And the ones who did didn’t get the chance to say it twice.

But a deal was a deal.

And, no matter how often everyone called it the Palace, the fact was that Bill knew the differences between a palace and a castle, and where Lucifer and Lilith lived just outside Pentagram City? _Castle_. No doubt about it.

And Alastor had agreed on his No Castles policy, had happily added it to the terms of their arrangement before either of them knew what it would mean in the long-term.

_Checkmate._

“ _I...I SEE. HOW VERY...INTERESTING. YES, YOU WOULDN’T BE ABLE TO GO INTO THE ROYAL GARDENS ON MY ORDERS._ ”

This was SO good! After all those years, finally winning against-

“Hey!” The dragons demon squirmed as he was pulled into a tight hug, ribs creaking ominously as deer squeezed. Alastor laughed, seemingly over his earlier anger and confusion. If anything, he almost looked like a proud papa.

A thought Bill willed out of his head as soon as it appeared.

“ _TRICKY, TRICKY, MY FRIEND, BUT NOT TO FRET! YOU MIGHT NOT BE ABLE TO ENTER THE GARDEN YOURSELF, BUT THAT DOESN’T MEAN YOUR CONTRIBUTIONS NEED TO END HERE! NO INDEED, I HAVE THE PERFECT JOB FOR YOU! TELL ME, HAVE YOU EVER MET THE PRINCESS?_ ”

_I think I played this wrong._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He definitely made a bad call there. The words palace and castle are often used interchangeably, but there actually is a difference, and I decided to throw Bill a lifeline by having that little fact play in his favor.
> 
> A lifeline I then cut because I’m mean to him.


	6. Apple of His Eye (2/2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Al gets his apples. Bill questions private school standards.

“Darling?” 

“Hmm?”

“Would you mind explaining why you _insisted_ we visit Fredrick and Bethesa today of all days?”

Lucifer grinned, looking up from the mirror in his hands as he decided on the best way to explain his latest source of entertainment.

“It’s actually a funny story. You see-“

**As it turned out, I did need to make a couple changes to my plan for getting access to the orchard, but I like to think the end result was even better. Wyverns are powerful creatures, and quite vicious when disturbed, but any demon with sufficient magical knowledge has their ways around facing them fang to fang, so I was happy to volunteer myself for the task. The _real_ problem, dear Reader, was making sure our King and Queen wouldn’t be making an appearance. Their personal garden is heavily warded, with spells known only to the Magne family, and I knew even then that there was no way of getting in and out without tripping _some_ kind of alarm. The only way to keep Lilith and Lucifer away long enough to get in and out with my prize was to distract them with something they valued more.**

**That is where Bill’s skillset came into play,**

A large, clawed foot tapped nervously at the cold stone floor.

The dragon couldn’t believe Alastor thought his absolute _train wreck_ of a plan was gonna work. If they didn’t end up laughing him out of the building, they’d probably flay him alive for trying to run off with the princess.

“Mister...Dragonsly?” A short, bespectacled demon walked through the door, eyes barely leaving his clipboard.

“Yeah, that’s me. Richard Dragonsly.” Had he even given them a first name when he checked in? “Nice to meet you, Mister...?”

“Apaosha.” Finally putting down his notes, the small Hellborn held out his hand. “Welcome to the Devilish Academy for Girls. You are here to pick up Miss Magne? What happened to the goats?”

Fifty pounds of lettuce and tomatoes left in the middle of the road they always took to get to the school.

“Stomach issues.”

“Very well,” nodding, Mr. Apaosha turned back towards the door. “Drivers and caretakers are allowed to wait in the atrium. I’ll have Miss Magne sent down when she finishes with her fencing tutor.”

_Holy shit, it actually worked._

**and I’m told it went off without a hitch.**

Lilith frowned at the dragon in the mirror, head tilted in confusion.

“There’s no way Apaosha would fall for that, and he knows damn well we’d never send somebody for Charlotte who isn’t already cleared with the school.” 

“Oh, I called ahead and told him to go with it if somebody showed up looking for Charlotte,” the King of Hell chuckled as _Richard_ stumbled down the stairs towards the main atrium.

Lilith wasn’t amused.

“And is there a _reason_ you’re helping that imbecile kidnap our only daughter?”

“She’ll be fine, Lily-Mine. He doesn’t want to hurt her, and I doubt he _could_ if he tried. This is all to distract us from the Radio Demon’s latest scheme. Speaking of which, let’s see how he’s doing.”

**Meanwhile, I’d found my way into the Palace with ease. The doors, windows and even mirrors are monitored around the clock, but this was before they’d started watching the machinery.**

Brushing himself off, Alastor gave a friendly pat to the radio before checking his surroundings. As expected, the sole radio in the building _would_ be in one of the rooms Lilith frequented most. The Queen was a singer, and she no doubt enjoyed listening to how she stacked up to the competition.

Not that she had much in the way of competition. Considering how many actors, dancers, and composers ended up downstairs, it was surprising that vocal talent was such a rarity in Hell. Yes, the odd singer would show up from time to time, but many found their voices warped and even ruined after becoming demons, so there were only a couple dozen professional singers and Hell, and almost none of them had been born human.

Alastor liked to think Heaven poached the best singers for their choirs, turning a blind eye to their sins in exchange for access to their talents.

Hypocrisy at its finest.

Sneaking out of the parlor, the deer thought back to the handful of times he’d attended one of Lucifer’s events.

He’d been in the general area for guests, which was close to the throne room and the public gardens. The family rooms were in the part of the Palace he and his fellow Overlords and high ranking Hellborn were barred from entering, and that was...left of the receiving areas. Based off which parts of the grounds would get more access to light, which would be essential to growing any plants originating on Earth aaaand...that way.

(“Impressive. Lily, call Orcus and tell him to have the guards take an early lunch.”

“Fine, but switch back to the dragon. I want to make sure he’s treating Charlotte alright.”)

**I distinctly remember the path I took to get to the Trees of Knowledge, and you should know...nothing. I’ve been very generous so far, but that doesn’t mean I am going to do _everything_. Besides, the challenge is half the fun.**

“Hi! I’m Charlie! What’s your name?”

_Al, you evil bastard._

Bill had never seen the Princess of Hell before. Her parents kept her out of the papers, supposedly giving her a chance to get some training in before exposing her to media scrutiny, but that didn’t stop people from talking, and everyone and their mother had their ideas about what Princess Charlotte looked like.

Tall, like her mother, probably with those big, red horns.

Teeth like her old man, and those same smug yellow eyes.

She’d be cold. Sadistic. Elegant like Lilith, but with Lucifer’s natural malevolence.

A twisted, freakish abomination born of the Beast and the Succubus Queen.

Not a goddamn big-eyed, red-cheeked, happy go lucky _baby_ with blonde hair pulled up in two curly pigtails, bouncing around him as she chattered on and on about...  
.  
.  
.  
.  
_I should probably listen to what she’s saying._

“-nice to make friends! I love Razzle and Dazzle, and they’re really soft and fluffy after they get brushed, but I’ve always wanted to see a real dragon, like in the stories! You aren’t really a _real_ dragon - wait, that sounds bad! No no no! You’re a really good dragon, I just meant you’re not like the giant ones that fly around - oh, but I don’t mean you’re small! I’m small! Look!”

She put a hand over her head to demonstrate her smaller size, and Bill felt what was left of his soul take a hit.

He was kidnapping an actual kid. He was actually kidnapping a small, dumb, trusting little girl who wanted to meet a dragon because she’d read about them in fucking fairytales!

Yeah, she was probably about the Hellborn equivalent of twelve, but she acted half that, and they were just letting him take her?!

After she got back to her parents, they should seriously consider homeschooling. The Devilish Academy wasn’t doing _shit_ to take care of her.

“Okay!” Charlotte (Charlie, a voice in his head reminded him) sang, hefting a bright red backpack over one shoulder. “Ready to go!”

“Um, great. C’mon.” Leading her outside, Bill crouched down, arms open wide. “So, I know you usually take a car, but I thought we could fly around for a bit-“

“THIS IS THE BEST DAY EVER!”

(“On second thought, maybe I should get his contact information. Abyzou will be going on maternity leave at the end of the year, and Charlotte could use a few more playmates.”

“I can have it on your desk in the morning, Love. Ooh, Red’s in the garden!)

**Wyverns are one the few creatures not even the King and Queen can tame, which is what makes them such excellent guardians. Keep them leashed with chains spelled to keep them from getting too close to _certain people_ , and they’ll be safe enough to be around and happy to take out anyone else they can get to.**

Crouching behind a wall, just out of range of the two monsters curled protectively around the small orchard, Alastor got to work preparing his magic.

Yes, he could attempt to bespell them directly, but that would be exhausting to the extreme, and would increase his chance of somebody walking in on him before he was ready to leave.

Besides, what he was planning would be much more _entertaining_.

If Lucifer was here, he might even appreciate what he was about to do. He seemed like the kind of man to appreciate a bit of controlled chaos.

(“What do you think he’s doing? Freezing spell? Burning spell? Oh, do you think he’ll take out some voodoo dolls and-“)

**To avoid dealing with them two on one, I decided to give them a more appetizing target.**

“- _THSI’NDVA KO-MAK TEMA_ -“

**I broke the chains, and, with the doors into the Palace left open, you can imagine what happened next.**

“Hahahahaha! Brilliant!” 

“Lucifer! That is our _HOME_!”

Waving it off, the smaller blonde looked back at the mirror just in time to see Ted-the-Wyvern clawing his way into the kitchen.

“Eh, it was time for a remodel. Hey, Olive-the-Wyvern’s found the wine cellar!”

“YOU _NAMED_ THEM!?”

“You didn’t?”

On the couch opposite the arguing couple, Fredrick and Bethesa Von Eldritch sat, wondering how Lucifer inviting himself and Lilith over for tea had turned into watching him watch the Radio Demon’s minion kidnap his daughter and letting wyverns destroy his home.

**With the Palace staff well and truly distracted, getting back out with a few apples stuffed into my pockets was a piece of cake. Flushed with my success, I set off for the Radio Tower.**

“I’M FLYING LIKE A BIRD!” Nestled in his arms, Charlie was having the time of her life, not even noticing the hours passing.

Bill was getting a migraine.

Spotting a car stamped with the Magne Family seal in the distance, he decided he’d given Al enough time to get what he needed. Landing just out of sight of the two goats, sleeping off their meal, he set the Princess down.

“That was sooooooo fun! Can we do it again? OOH! Can you fly me to Helsa’s party next week!? She’s always showing off, but I bet she’s never flown like a - Hey! COME BACK! PLEEEEEEEAAAASE?”  
.  
.  
.  
.  
“TELL YOUR PARENTS APAOSHA NEEDS TO GET BETTER AT VETTING PEOPLE WHO JUST WALK INTO THE SCHOOL! HELL HAS A LOT OF CREEPS!”

**Bill arrived later on.**

“I really do want his name and number.”

“I’ve already put someone on it. So, Fred, what’s new?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and pay your respects to the Von Eldritch family. This is NOT the first time Lucifer’s decided to crash at their place.
> 
> I went pretty easy on Bill here, but think about this: now Lilith and Lucifer want to meet him.
> 
> He’ll rue the day yet!


	7. Wool of Bat and Tongue of Dog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alastor starts the ritual. Macbeth references are made. Bill has some reservations.

**At last, everything needed for the Shadow Birthing ritual was within my grasp. Due to the short shelf life of several of my ingredients, I decided to proceed that night, just as soon as Bill returned from his errand at the Devilish Academy.**

“ _WELCOME BACK, MY FRIEND! EVERYTHING WENT ALRIGHT WITH THE PRINCESS, I HOPE? WE WOULDN’T WANT LUCIFER KNOCKING ON MY DOOR TONIGHT OF ALL NIGHTS, LET ALONE AN ANGRY LILITH MAGNE._ ”

Bill stared, transfixed, at the mess covering the normally immaculate studio floor.

“Al...what’s going on? You said you have a project, but none of this looks like your usual voodoo schtik. What _exactly_ are you trying to do?”

Carefully lowering the cauldron into place in the middle of the circle, Alastor stood off, brushing chalk off his sleeves as he regarded the dragon with his signature smile.

“ _AH, YES, I SUPPOSE I SHOULD FILL YOU IN BEFORE WE GET STARTED. TO MAKE A LONG STORY SHORT, WE’RE GOING TO BE WORKING ON YOUR REPLACEMENT._ ”

“My WHAT?”

“ _YOUR REPLACEMENT, DEAREST. OH, DON’T GIVE ME THAT LOOK. I’M REPLACING YOUR ROLE IN MY LIFE - I’M NOT KILLING YOU AND LITERALLY MAKING A COPY._ ”

“Oh. Good.”

“ _-I DID THAT ONCE WITH GINA, AND IT REALLY WASN’T WORTH THE TIME AND EFFORT. GINA TWO ONLY MADE IT ABOUT A WEEK BEFORE GETTING HANDSY..._ ” Shuddering at the memory, the Radio Demon turned back to his helper, eyes brightening as he pointed at a large, dark red book in front of the hastily drawn chalk circle.

“ _CONTRACTS COME AND GO, AND THEY ARE FUN, REALLY, BUT I’M LOOKING FOR A MORE PERMANENT ARRANGEMENT. I NEED SOMEBODY SMART, SOMEBODY POWERFUL AND VICIOUS, THE SORT OF PERSON WHO CAN BE READY TO HELP AT A MOMENT’S NOTICE WITHOUT FEELING THE NEED TO QUESTION MY PLANS. TELL ME, BILL, HOW MANY PEOPLE DO YOU KNOW WHO MEET THOSE REQUIREMENTS?_ ”

“Well, uh-“

“ _PRECISELY! NOBODY IN THE PENTAGRAM IS THE TYPE OF ASSISTANT I NEED EXCEPT ONE! MYSELF! IMAGINE IT, A NEAR PERFECT COPY OF YOURS TRULY TO BE UNLEASHED ON THE WRETCHED MASSES AT MY COMMAND! THINK OF THE YEARS OF ENTERTAINMENT WE’LL HAVE, MY SHADOW AND I! HAHAHAHA!_ ”

Bill thought about it. Alastor making another Alastor. Two Alastors.

Two Alastors.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
Two.

Alastors.

_This is worse than the Black Knight. This is SO MUCH worse than the Black Knight!_

“Al, maybe we can talk about this...how about I make us some coffee and we take things from the top?”

“ _NONSENSE! THE GOLD WILL BE MAGICALLY IMPOTENT BY TOMORROW, SO THERE’S NO TIME TO SPARE. FOR NOW, JUST SIT BACK AND WATCH THE MAGIC HAPPEN! GET SOMETHING TO DRINK IF YOU NEED IT AS LONG AS YOU CAN **GEt iT QuieTLy!**_ “

“Fine, but I’m not getting you shit.”

**The full ritual is, as I mentioned, written out in full later on, but I do want to emphasize once more how important your ingredients are to the ritual, starting with the eye of newt.**

**Some of you will recognize it as an ingredient in popular stories about witchcraft. “Double, double toil and trouble” and that extremely detailed chant by the witches in Macbeth is what probably comes to mind. If that’s your source...**

**...now might be a good time to give up. If you’d done your research back in school, you wouldn’t need _me_ to tell you that what the witches really meant by eye of newt was nothing more than common mustard seeds.**

**If that is the case, what use is there for a real eye in the list of ingredients needed to create my minion? That all boils down to symbolism, which is often more vital to European spellcraft than the items themselves. Most magic requires a strong level of belief to take form in the material world, so connecting something you are using to a sort of higher power helps tremendously in convincing your own energies to comply.**

**The eye I procured while out getting spices was useful as a symbol in two parts, Shakespearean reference (and even earlier accounts long before his time) being a big one. It doesn’t matter that the witches in Macbeth meant mustard, not when every generation since the author’s time has taken it in a more literal sense, clinging to the shocking, almost taboo idea of consuming an actual newt’s eye as a real thing witches would do when enacting their dark deeds. The second part is that newts are a kind of salamander, and salamanders have strong alchemical symbolism relating to fire.**

Once more kneeling in the circle, Alastor opened a small jar, extracting Sidney’s eye with reverence. Pushing it slowly under the cauldron’s stand, he leaned back, grin widening as the eye burst into flame.

“ _EXCELLENT. NOW, LET’S SEE WHAT’S NEXT...BILL, WOULD YOU MIND PASSING ME A COUPLE OF THE DOUBLOONS?_ ”

**As long as your magic _and_ your belief are strong enough, the eye will become the main source of heat for your brew. The reason you cannot light a regular fire is, again, that a level of significance is needed for the ingredients to meld appropriately, and NOTHING on or under the earth has more meaning in potion making than the four elements: Earth, Air, Water, and Fire. **

**Next up and first into the pot is the sunken treasure. Again, not much active work on your part will be needed for it to have the desired effect.**

Bill’s head shot up, eyes wide as a horrifyingly familiar smell began to drift out of the cauldron, a thick, dark water bubbling up, hissing and spitting in the cold air.

**After the cauldron fills to the halfway point, you can begin adding the spices. Start with the St. John’s wort and remember that just a pinch will do. Stop and wait several minutes after the sumac goes in. Once the liquid shows signs of congealing around the edges, it’s time to add some air into the mix.**

**That is where the siren feather comes into play. Wave it a few times through the fumes before using it to stir through the potion twice, going counterclockwise both times, and then allow it to sink in. You will notice the difference almost immediately.**

**The potion will have reached a slower boil, with the bubbles more stable and less likely to pop. Assuming you are using the correct cauldron size, it won’t boil over when the volume doubles. If even a drop spills, scrap it all and start again from scratch.**

Alastor leaned back as the liquid began to aerate, tears dripping down his cheeks from the burning scent of the boiling river water.

He was _so close_ to a perfect potion, but he wouldn’t know until he added the fruit from Eden.

From Lucifer and Lilith’s garden.

Which could be a problem.

The recipe called for fruit specifically from Eden, and the Trees of Knowledge had been grown from fruit taken from Eden, even if they actually sprouted in Hell.

It _should_ be close enough, especially since the trees had been tended to by Eden’s first woman, Lilith.

But..if it wasn’t...

Then even the Devil himself wouldn’t be able to stop him from finding the actual Garden of Eden and taking his next apple from the source.

**Your last step is to add the apple, cut as finely as you can manage, and this is the step where you are most likely to fail. Eden’s magic is pure, as close to heavenly as anything you could hope to find below the pearly gates.**

**It doesn’t react well to the type of energy you have been leaking into your work.**

**Ideally, you will be working on this in a building or open space you won’t mind abandoning if things turn bad, but if everything comes together successfully...then you are ready.**

**And I had the fortune of getting it right on the first try.**

“Is...is that it?” Bill edged away as Alastor walked out of the circle, a small bowl clutched tightly in his hands.

“ _I BELIEVE SO. IT FITS THE DESCRIPTION, FROM WHAT I CAN TELL FROM THE TEXT AND ILLUSTRATION._ ”

_At least it’s doesn’t smell like swamp BO anymore._

“So, what now? Do you paint it on a wall or something? Form a door and let the shadow Al out?”

Alastor laughed, a hint of a screech beneath the usual static buzz as he looked into the bowl.

The potion didn’t look particularly powerful, really.

It actually looked a lot like he’d upended an inkwell into a bowl.

And the smell was...odd...familiar in the strangest way.

By all accounts, it should be right, but he couldn’t afford to waste even the smallest bit by testing it, and it might not work for anyone other than the creator if he tried.

Also, Bill hadn’t accepted a drink from him since that time with his failed loyalty potion. 

Good times.

“ _NO DOORS THIS TIME, AND NOT A REASON I CAN THINK OF TO PUT THINGS OFF. BILL, GO GET ME A CUP OF COFFEE. THERE IS NO NEED TO RUSH. TAKE YOUR TIME._ ”

The dragon went to the door, hand wrapping around the doorknob before pausing.

“Are you sure, Al? I mean, you’ve never done this before...”

“ _AH, NO NEED TO WORRY ABOUT ME, OLD PAL! I’LL BE RIGHT AS RAIN, AND HOPEFULLY READY TO INTRODUCE YOU TO A NEW FRIEND OF MINE BY THE TIME YOU GET BACK. OFF YOU GO! CREAM AND NO SUGAR._ ”

**I knew what drinking the potion should do in theory, but I wasn’t really expecting what happened next.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re about to get the Shadow!!!
> 
> I’m not a huge fan of this chapter, but I decided Al would probably include a few facts about the potion while he was brewing it...I kind of like the idea that 90% of magical power comes from just believing magic exists. Like, certain items only have use in potions because of what it symbolizes and what that symbolism does to tie into what you’re trying to do. I didn’t write it ALL, so feel free to ask if you have any questions.


	8. Look What the Vulture Brought! It’s a...Well, It IS!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alastor finally births his new minion, which is a lot less fun than he thought it would be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild warning: Al’s not going to have a great time with the Shadow Birthing. Tiny warning for mentions of accidental self-harm, bad childhood memories, and Alastor’s history as a serial killing cannibal. Nothing is explicit, but I’m just putting it out there.

Alastor raised the bowl to his mouth, grin dropping somewhat as a bit of the liquid made contact with his lower lip.

It was cold, much colder than it should be, and that _smell_...

It wasn’t bad, but...he knew it from somewhere.

What was it?

He’d figure it out later.

Right now, he had a minion to make.

Tilting the potion forward, Alastor drank every last drop.

**Now, with a process called “Shadow Birthing,” and the connotations of the act being related to more traditional childbirth, you may believe the task of separating from your shadow will be a painful one.**

**You are correct.**

Groaning, the Radio Demon fell to the floor, claws gouging into his own face as sparks went off behind his eyes.

“ _Nn.....nOo- **AAAaaaaaaAAaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAGgH!**_ ”

Too much! Too much!

Images cycled through his mind, tearing by in a swirl of agony.

_His mother, turning away from the door as his father walked out, never to return. Eyes glittering with tears she wouldn’t shed in front of her young son._

_Running through the trees, Anton and Louis at his heels, shouting obscenities as their schoolmate escaped into the bayou. They’d be better prepared next time._

_His first and last date with a girl named Babette, who’d been quite charming until she leaned in for a kiss, chapped lips barely an inch from his own before he’d had the presence of mind to move. No, romance was not for him after all._

_The rush of dread as he made his first kill, and how his fear had turned to excitement when he remembered they were alone. Nobody had to know, and it felt so right...so entertaining._

_Leaning into his microphone, finally getting his chance at a local station. It wasn’t a particularly good time slot, but that didn’t matter. Nothing wrong with working his way to the top._

__

__

_Louis was long gone. People said he went west looking for work. Alastor was sorry he’d missed him._

_People were listening, but not to him. Michael with the after-dinner news kept his audience on their seats through the weekend with details of an escaped conman. A bit mundane, but the people were desperate for excitement, and if a runaway crook was the best they could get, they’d listen morning, noon, and night._

_Another hunt. Meat, vegetables, and rice simmering away on a hot stovetop. The girl from the corner store had never looked or smelled better._

_The conman was caught, but Michael was still milking the story for all it was worth. How he did it, Alastor didn’t know. He’d have to ask the older man for tips sometime. Perhaps over a good, home-cooked meal._

_Michael was gone, run off in the middle of the night. What a heel! Of course he could fill in for a few weeks. Anything for the station._

_A young schoolteacher found the blonde waitress’s remains while on a picnic with her fiancé. The city was in terror, so of course they wanted to hear more. Yes, Sir, I can have something ready by tonight. A brief substitution becomes a permanent place on the air. His voice echoes through New Orleans._

_The house was located just outside the Vieux Carré. A bit of a fixer upper, but that basement...perfect for some of his more artistic projects. He’d take it._

_Mrs. Thomas was such a nice woman, a friendly granny type willing to teach that quirky bachelor down the street, skinny thing that he was, some of her cherished family recipes. If that no good nephew of hers keeps turning up asking for money she doesn’t have, well, Alastor’s been craving andouille._

_He had a great idea for spicing up his content with something that’ll have his audience begging for more. Now, where did his dear friend Anton work these days?_

_Looking down the barrel of a gun, the sounds of stray dogs barking in the distance. A woman screamed as it went off._

_Red._

_Red was everywhere. Red like his mother’s favorite scarf. Red like peppers chopped with care. Red like his hands after a kill._

_And wasn’t that just **wONDeRfuL?**_

Blood streamed down his face and neck as Alastor writhed on the floor, static-filled screams echoing through the building.

He couldn’t take this anymore.

Something had to give.

And then  
.  
.  
.  
.  
It did.

Quickly as it began, the memories stopped, the pain in his head vanishing abruptly, leaving the red-haired demon stunned, panting uselessly as his mind righted itself.

He was Alastor, the Radio Demon. An Overlord in Hell.

The potion hadn’t re-killed him, and a few pesky claw marks wouldn’t take long to heal, with or without his magic.

He was fine.

And he was...missing something. 

_Where is...oh, there you are._

Ten feet away, wedged into a corner, was his shadow.

No, not his shadow.

His _Shadow_. Darker than the Abyss, with a long, full rack of antlers on display, even as its “face” pressed into the wall.

Concentrating, Alastor stretched out his magic, grin returning as his power brushed against something that was so himself, but different as well.

It was perfect. They were perfect together.

Struggling to his feet, Alastor never let his eyes leave the dark creature still hiding itself from its surroundings.

_Ah, this must be strange for the poor chap. From a simple absence of light to its own being in a manner of minutes. What must it feel now that feeling is an option? Only one way to know._

**We’ve been at this for quite some time, dearest Reader, with much in the way of backstory and no real rules to speak of, but that stops now. Rule #1 is very simple:**

Stepping up to his beautiful creation, Alastor held out his hand, eyes bright as the figure below him started to shift.

He supposed his “alone voice” would make more sense until his Shadow had a better grip on its new existence. It might even be _fun_ , gently coaxing what was more or less himself out to play.

“Greetings, my dear friend. Welcome to Hell in the most literal of senses.”

One pitch black hand lifted, covering its face as it moved its head towards the source of the noise.

“No need to be shy, my faithful follower! I’m hardly a stranger to you, and we have so much work to do! Do you remember Bill? I think he’s around here somewhere...I actually _would_ like that coffee if he decides to bring an extra cup.”

The Shadow stayed where it was, face hidden.

Alastor felt a twinge of irritation as this dark, imposing version of himself hid like a child. He’d done too much to bring it to life to be ignored now.

“It’s rude not to look at someone when they’re talking to you, _mon Ombre_. Come now, let me see what we’re working with.”

**When meeting your new helper, don’t expect it to be happy to be meeting _YOU_.**

The hand lowered, and Alastor had a brief glimpse of glowing eyes and a long, jagged mouth stretched back in a furious rictus grin before the being leapt forward, claws outstretched and greedy for blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There’s not much information about how Alastor died, but dogs and guns have been mentioned by the creators in the past. 
> 
> For the next chapter OR the one after that, I actually have an iconic movie scene I plan to base it off of. Any guesses?
> 
> Vieux Carré is a name for the French Quarter. It’s also a cocktail.


	9. Two Demons and a (1/2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Given some time to reflect, Bill realizes that there might be some benefits to Alastor’s weird cloning potion.

Bill looked at the cup of coffee in his left hand, and then the even larger cup of coffee in his right hand.

The temptation to _accidentally_ drop them both and run back to the cafe for replacements was overwhelming.

But...he had to know what he was dealing with, because the dragon knew down to his bones that Alastor’s latest plot was going to end up being his problem. How, he wasn’t sure, but he knew it the same way he’d known at the start of their very first deal that he’d fucked up by accepting that handshake.

Maybe Shadow-Al would be less of an asshole than the original?

_Yeah, and maybe Al’s gonna call up that Valentine guy and ask him to dinner. THAT’s how stupid you sound right now._

The radio tower rose up in front of him, the twisted black and red metal gleaming in the light of the pentagram above the city. Shifting the second coffee into the gap between his arm and chest, Bill grabbed his key (the ONLY key, since the Radio Demon only ever bothered to use doors to confuse people used to him teleporting behind them), and unlocked the door.

He didn’t hear anything, but that didn’t mean much; every room in the scrap heap Al called home was soundproofed like crazy. He still remembered the one time he’d walked in on the sadistic redhead while he was on the air with a _special guest_ who’d made the mistake of starting a turf war in his territory. Nightmare fuel didn’t even begin to describe what that freak could do with a lemon zester and a bottle of bourbon.

Taking his time going up the stairs, Bill tried to calm his nerves. Sure, there were two Alastors up there, but was that necessarily a BAD thing?

Yes, but only for society as a whole. For Bill, this could be his way out. 

Just because Al had said no more deals didn’t mean shit at the end of the day. Even if he wasn’t magically compelled to serve the bastard anymore, the new Overlord was still powerful and manipulative enough that forcing Bill to work for him _without_ the limited protection of the mutual benefits aspect of demon deals was still possible and, under any other circumstances, likely.

But with Shadow-Al distracting him...

After years of trying and failing to avoid someone, you got to know them pretty well. Alastor was a showman at his core. He didn’t need love, but he craved validation in the form of attention, so having someone who had been literally stuck to him for his entire life and afterlife giving him all the respect and admiration he wanted, a boring, unimportant dragon demon could just...slip through the cracks.

Bill felt his wings perk up as he climbed, a reflection of his raised spirits.

This could work out, and he could see it now:

Bill would get the coffee up to Al, but the deer would be so busy fawning over Shadow-Al that he’d barely notice the interruption. He’d stay long enough to confirm the deal had ended, say goodbye (distracted or not, Alastor didn’t appreciate being ignored), leave the tower and _buy everyone on the goddamn block a drink because he was FUCKING FREE AT LAST!_

At the studio door, Bill took a deep breath. This was it.

His future starts here.

Unlocking the door, he stepped inside.

“ _I WILL **reND ThE FLEsH fROm YOUR boNeS, YOU TraitoRoUS INGraTe!**_ ”

_I hate that I’m not even surprised anymore._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are no benefits, Bill. This is Hell.  
> 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥
> 
> Sorry for a looong delay. My brain’s been pretty fried lately with stress, planning things IRL, and I couldn’t find any inspiration for ages. To take a break, I wrote a few new OC characters and started a story in a different fandom, which helped. I promise I’m not giving up on (dragging Bill) this story!


	10. Two Demons and a (2/2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Shadow is a handful and no one is prepared.

The room was coated in blood, enough that the Radio Demon, dressed in his signature color, was almost able to blend into the scenery.

Apart from the glowing red aura and swirls of demonic energy and strange runes swirling around his body.

It’d also help if he wasn’t in constant motion, fending off the teeth and claws of a vaguely Al-shaped _thing._

_That’s Al’s Shadow. Shadow-Al._

The creature hissed as it was pushed back by a blast of hellfire, a gouge in its shoulder beginning to fill back instantly with the pure darkness that made up most of its being.

Undeterred, it attacked again, antlers pushed forward as it charged.

_”HOW DARE - I CREATED YOU, YOU MINDLESS BEAST!”_

Shadow-Al didn’t seem impressed.

Bill understood the feeling completely.

Now well and truly pissed, Alastor let his own antlers loose, black horns branching out and catching the Shadow’s pair right on time. Gloves shredded away as red-tipped black claws tore and slashed against an only partly-physical opponent.

The rips and tears sealed back up instantly.

The counter attacks, ripping into Alastor’s already blood-soaked torso, weren’t so quick to repair themselves.

The Radio Demon, already exhausted from a long day of travel and whatever energies he’d used during his weird ritual, was losing.

No.

The _Radio Demon_ was getting his ass kicked by an extension of himself.

If someone had described the scenario to the dragon even a day before, he’d probably have busted a gut laughing at the idea of Al managing to mess up enough that he basically beat his own ass into the ground.

But, being where he was now, and seeing that thing attacking his asshole former boss...

It was fucking TERRIFYING.

Al was chaotic evil on a good day, but being chaotic meant that he wasn’t ALL violence all the time. He could go days, weeks, or even the occasional month without going on a murder spree, and was almost decent company sometimes when the mood hit him.

If he lost to his Shadow...if that creature, the worst part of him, took his place...

Would anything survive?

He sure wouldn’t.

Al had to win, or at least make the Shadow thing calm down.

Leather shoes dragged back along the floor as Alastor lost ground, hunching in pain and physical exhaustion as Shadow All pushed forward.

Furious red eyes began to close.

The Shadow raised a clawed hand, preparing for a finishing blow.

_Thump! Thud! Hissss._

The cups of coffee hit directly. One on the center of that black back and the other catching on an antler point, sending a stream of near boiling liquid raining down on its exposed head.

“Hey, Ugly! You think you’re some hot shit because you’re winning against a guy who’s been working for weeks to make your creepy mug? Fuck you!”

If Alastor reacted to that, Bill didn’t see it, orange eyes focused entirely on the twin pinpricks of light emanating from the Shadow’s eye sockets.

**”B...Billlll.”**

The words weren’t spoken, but he swore he could hear them whispering in his head, half a dozen voices twisted together in a spectral chorus.

It turned completely, fully facing him.

It took a step. Then another.

Bill took a step back. Ok, this was bad, but he still had the keys to the tower, and the building was enchanted as fuck. If he could lock the door or lock himself in another room until daybreak-

The door slammed behind him. 

_Click._

Well...that answered the question about whether the thing had Al’s magic mumbo jumbo.

“S-stay back! I’m warning you!”

Al’s magic fire didn’t take it down, so his dragon fire probably wouldn’t do much.

**”Biiiillllllll. Billlll. Bbiiiill.”**

The temperature dropped as the creature got closer.

“Back off!”

**”Biiilllll.”**

He didn’t want to touch it, and he didn’t have anything he could use to push it back, or throw...

Well, he had the one thing.

Hell of a dumb was to die, though.

**”Bill.”**

He threw the key. 

_Clink!_

And watched it bounce uselessly against the Shadow’s forehead. Dropping to the floor in a rattle of metals.

The Shadow blinked. Dumbfounded by the pathetic attack.

_I really hope that part doesn’t make my obituary._

It looked down at the key.

A black foot stretched out, nudging it.

_Clink._

_Clink._

_What the?!_

It moved again, kneeling on the floor, one long finger pushing a the key.

_Clink!_

The Shadow picked it up, rattling it playfully.

**”Biiilll. Biiill....Billll fun!”**

Wait.

No sign of higher thoughts or goals.

No control over its emotions.

Easily distracted by shiny objects and new sounds.

An EXTREMELY limited vocabulary, focusing on names and simple adjectives when it did speak.

“Al.” Was the Radio Demon even awake over there?

“Ye - _YES, BILL?_ ” Guess so.

The Shadow rattled the key again, wide grin taking on a playful edge as it observed its new toy in action.

“It’s...I think your Shadow’s a baby. Like, an evil, murder-happy baby, but still...”

_”SO IT WOULD SEEM.”_

“Fuck.”

_”THIS MAY HAVE BEEN A MISTAKE, MY FRIEND.”_

“No shit.”

**”Biiilllll!”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Has anyone seen Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: Secret of the Ooze?
> 
> Just imagine Al angrily yelling “BABY! IT’S A BABY!”


End file.
